A journey to San Francisco to become no less than Me. (BLOG REBOOT: Former site of Hairy Legs.)

Why is it that, if you cut your hair, particularly if you don’t give them at least two weeks of preparation, people in your life tend to take it as a personal insult?

On the note of people being blockheads, there’s too much drama going on in this house right now to write a proper blog, so I’d just like to update with that, say that things are generally going good, real good in fact, and wish you all a happy New Year.

Also, before I forget, coming out to my extended friends at the New Year’s party went very smoothly.  They took well enough to my hair (unlike my stepmom, who kept telling me I “look like a boy”, which I’m sure is meant to be an insult but was instead full of win.)  At the Resolutions announcements (after everyone made their satirical resolutions like “ruin the environment and give Micheal Moore an aneurysm” and so forth), I resolved to “become a Man before the world ends in 2012!”  After everyone had their giggles, I said, “But on a more serious note, I do resolve to be on testosterone before the end of the year.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that came afterwards.

It was pretty intense, but after a while, I started getting the questions, and everyone was really getting into it.  They seemed actually really gung-ho about it, which I was glad for.

Anyway, my ability to put together a sentence in this chaotic din is obviously diminishing, so I’ll add a note here that I’d like to put my picture up of my new haircut next post and also a review of Joe’s Barbershop (I was satisfied).  I promise a more in-depth attempt, probably tomorrow morning.

Cheers!

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